The Dragon's wife
by YamiYoukai
Summary: coppola based. Even I don't know why I did that, I can't understand why I chose to defend him with his very curse, which I willingly took. What I do know it that loosing him evoked such a despair in my soul... 'Cause love never dies M/D
1. Chapter 1

The train's jostling suddenly tore me from my slumber with a soft moan of protest, and instantly, Jonathan was by my side, hushing in an attempt to comfort me, I turned to him and managed a weak smile

The other day I was watching Coppola's Dracula when inspiration struck, so this is based on his movie, I can't say it's based on Stoker's Dracula though I might take some things from it because despite the director's claims, both are quite different… Please do tell me if you think I should keep going. smile

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30 October - Mina's journal

The train's jostling suddenly tore me from my slumber with a soft moan of protest, and instantly, Jonathan was by my side, hushing in an attempt to comfort me, I turned to him and managed a weak smile. He still is so solicitous, so gentle and loving despite his terrible past experiences. I know it still affects him, how could I not notice when his eyes cloud over in regrets and veiled horror? His stay with the three demonesses left scars, and not only in his prematurely graying hair.

I certainly wish my own contact with the creatures of the night had left only early white strands… how to explain my feelings when I myself am not sure? I am married to Jonathan, yet he has yet to at least attempt to touch me, and I guess that is my fault as well; whereas I once thrived in his touch, greedily drinking the kisses we managed to steal in a secluded spot, I now find those very same kisses somehow lacking. I know for a fact that his touch is the same from before he parted, and yet I now feel he lacks fire, passion.

I blush even writing this, and yet it is the truth. Kissing my husband, I miss the dangerous sensation that seems to come from the prince's very presence. Strange, how I can find myself yearning for something, no, someone that imbues fear into my very bones, someone I know was responsible for my best friend's death, her silent killer. Someone who lacks a soul, yet claims to love, someone without a beating heart, yet strangely alive. The Devil that hides in the shadows.

I still wonder what came over me that fateful night. Why did I agree to drink from him? I know it was what I desired then, but why? What madness would make me agree to seal my fate, to accept eternity as a soulless killer… to accept death? I recall some things more clearly than others, his large hands, a silent heart, his admission, rage, a coppery taste, red eyes. And yet, even as I just want it all to end, another part of me rejoices as every covered mile takes us closer to _something_.

November 6- Mina's diary

I woke with a most curious sense of dread and excitement, a mix that left my body tense and all my nerves on end. Jonathan is close, I can somehow tell, but there's another, darker pull that I dare not mention to Dr. Van Helsing. Lately my sleeping patterns have been strange, to say the least. I keep falling unconscious with dawn and re-awakening until sunset, I don't stand garlic, (as discovered by hostile farmers), can't cross Van Helsing's protection circles, have all but stopped eating and look weaker and paler by the day. There's no denying it, the Count's curse keeps spreading like poison in my veins. Today's nearing confrontation holds so much at stake… and may god forgive my unworthy soul, but it seems both sides hold people dear to me.

Later

What have I done?

Near sunset today we finally saw a carriage appear on the horizon, led by gypsies, it was obviously the prince's transport and there, hot on their heels and spurring their horses as much as they could, came Jonathan, Quincey, Arthur and John. Then I felt the pull, it was as if I could listen to the count's exotic accent whispering my name right besides my ear, a summoning that made me near the scene despite the impossibility of listening to him from such a distance and above the roaring hooves. Another shot, another gypsy down, another call and I snapped, I ran from my protected place by Van Helsing's side and climbed the nearest ledge I could reach. Moved by something between despair and the overwhelming need to protect I raised my arms and beseeched the winds, I still am not sure why I did what I did, or how I knew the snow would answer my desperate call, but it did. My companion's eyes seemed to pierce the back of my skull, such was the intensity of his gaze, but I was too busy to notice, with my own gaze trapped between the chase getting closer to us and the rapidly sinking orb in the darkening sky and his pride caressing my subconscious.

My impromptu storm did its job, slowing both slayers and hunted enough for the sun to sink in the horizon, after which it all but doubled in fury. I stared for an instant, mesmerized by my own new powers before springing into action, running to get into the castle before the gate closed. I was unsuccessful and was forced to stand outside as the true battle began. Jonathan, John and Arthur fought bravely to overcome the count's men, I had lost sight of Quincey, but the gypsies were good swordsmen and didn't go down easily. Looking to my left I spotted a narrow passage, it took me inside the castle and right above the warring men just as the box so jealously warded suddenly exploded, sending earth, debris and pieces of wood flying everywhere.

The slayers froze as Dracula himself made his appearance, still extremely dangerous despite his aged appearance. I clearly remember the looks on their faces, they were disheartened, surprised and weary. The count wasn't supposed to wake, but now that he had, the tables were turned. Quincey had been stabbed and laid bleeding in the snow, several bodies were strewn around him, testament that he hadn't gone down without a fight, Van Helsing was right behind me, too far away to be any real help, Arthur was holding his own against another man, very much like Jonathan, who was the closest to the count. Things weren't looking good for them, and when the… vampire (I still can't seem to write it!) turned his bloody gaze to Jonathan, my heart leapt in terrible fright. Dracula took poor Harker by the neck and with only that one hand lifted his feet clear off the ground, proving his immense strength and making the man choke as he was being slowly strangled by his own weight.

I heard someone cry out, and it took a moment to understand it had been me, I sprinted to where my… _the_ prince held poor Jonathan, amazed no-one tried to stop me. I clung desperately to Dracula's outstretched arm, sobbing at him to release his victim. He just turned and fixed in me instead that burning gaze, but I had to make him listen. Slowly and without tearing his eyes from mine, he lowered his arm and Jonathan with it, making the man stumble and take greedy gulps of air as soon as he was released, but I dared not turn to see if he was fine. I understood we'd lost, yet somehow, wasn't afraid for myself. Since drinking his blood, I had begun becoming a nosferatu myself, a creature of night who has to kill to survive, and the change is already so advanced, he had shown an interest in me before and I've become pretty much one of his own by now. My companions, on the other hand had proved to be too bothersome, they knew too much, were fully human and at his mercy in his own domain, an easy prey.

Without any other option, I appealed to a mercy I wasn't sure existed in the first place, I pleaded for my friend's lives. I saw the others surround Jonathan and help him rise, and he seemed intent on speaking his mind when he was stopped. I picked Van Helsing's whisper, saying it was too late, I was doomed and there was nothing they could do about it anymore. Sadness overwhelmed me for an instant then, for they were right, they had risked their lives in an effort to save my soul and lift the curse, and it had been for naught, the least I could do was try to get them safely out of the count's domain. I'm not sure of all I said, but I promised that they wouldn't be a threat ever again, for the sad truth was that, even if they divulged his secret, who would listen? They'd be thought mad. Then something seemed to give him pause, I was like him, more vampire than human now, and couldn't go back to civilization even if I tried. With or without my companions, Mrs. Harker or not, I was his now. The prince then made a strange question, he asked me if I truly wished to spare them, he asked if it would make me happy if they lived and I was quick to give my positive answer. He then bowed strangely to me and gave some instructions in his tongue to the gypsies before turning to Jonathan.

His terms were very clear, he would let them go unscratched because of my insistence, but he wouldn't be so merciful should there be a second time. His men would escort all five (including the now deceased Quincey) back into the train to ensure their safety, but he wouldn't keep his wolves at bay past the first train back. All of them got into the carriage in silence, and I couldn't help but stare back as Jonathan's heartbroken eyes left the castle and eventually got lost in the snowy distance. It took the prince's voice to get me back into the present and he took me into his castle, a guest rather than a prisoner.

I now write from my new room, which somehow seems familiar though I'm sure I have never been here before. Guilt seems to eat away at my insides, for in the end, though I saved the group they might have not needed saving had I not interfered with a storm in the Count's favor. No point in crying over spilt milk, as they say, it's time I pay my acceptance of the tainted blood, I'll have to learn to live with my decisions and as count Dracula's companion. He's been nothing but courteous to me since I came, and the room he says is now mine is lavishly decorated, the decay and cold that prevails in the castle seems not to have touched this place, the bed looks too comfortable and I'm tired, so I'll just lay down and perhaps tomorrow won't look quite so bleak as it does now… though both the prince and I know it won't be long now before I'll need a coffin instead.

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	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone, first of all, I would like to thank VintageLyre and Arsenic for their reviews, they are what drives me to keep writing

Hello everyone, first of all, I would like to thank VintageLyre and Arsenic for their reviews, they are what drives me to keep writing.

A cookie to ProngingPotter and LDeetz, who, though didn't review, added the story to their alerts.

I'm not quite familiar with the book, though I've been reading it to try and make things as accurate as possible, but some dates confuse so, so if you note time incongruence please tell me and bare with me

Disclaimer is the usual, do you think that I'd be writing fanfiction if I owned Dracula? …. Or Gary Oldman for that matter grin

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November 7- Mina's Diary

Once more, I woke to a ruby sunset, it didn't surprise me as much as it should, given it was beginning to be the norm. The first thing I noticed was a piece of paper neatly folded upon the vanity, and when my curiosity overcame me I was surprised to find it was a note written in an elegant sapphire handwriting. 'It would greatly honor me that such a fair lady met me in the dinning room. Could I have the privilege of your company tonight, Mina?' An involuntary smile escaped my lips when I read it, that's more like the exotic prince I met back home who captivated me. Too bad I know the truth of his identity now.

I walked the hallways with some apprehension, for though I somehow seem to know where to go, I wasn't quite sure of what would I find upon my arrival. Would I find my prince, waiting to gallantly dine with me, would I find the vampire, studying me with hungry ruby irises, or perhaps would I find a bleak stranger, now that he had me and no longer had to lure me? I saw him the instant the dining room came into view after turning a corner, but he was not like I had expected.

Instead of finding the old man from yesterday, I now came face to face with the handsome aristocrat I was so familiar with, but something in his expression was different. Whereas I was used to a prideful, arrogant male, evidently used to getting his way and all too aware of his appeal, I found a composed, meditative young man. He noticed my presence the instant I set foot into the room, but his eyes seemed less alert than usual, as if he were lost in memories, something perfectly understandable when you suspected his true age, but not usual in him at all.

I neared cautiously, nervous despite his seeming distraction, but if he noticed, he did a wonderful job ignoring my discomfort as he silently pulled my chair for me. The food was already set, but I was unsure; I know he doesn't' eat, but it is impolite to eat without your host. Once more, he didn't press me nor add to my dilemmas, without asking he simply inclined his head in a discreet approval that put me more at ease than it should.

After some minutes, he shifted his wayward attention to me. Or, more specifically, to the way I pushed my food around while barely eating, probably because of the change rapidly spreading through me, but I've been less and less hungry lately. The Count gave a deep sigh, one that made him sound infinitely tired and spoke softly to me.

"You know Mina? You must be dearer to me than either of us suspected."

I guess my blank look must have been more obvious than it should, for he explained himself without me having to ask.

"I let your companions go, and even now, after knowing what they did, I have yet to go after them, though by all rights, I should" It didn't clear much at first, but thinking about it I recalled that time, mere days back, when Van Helsing and I found ourselves surrounded by the three beautiful women that Jonathan met months back. They called to me, saying I was their sister and even then, knowing what they were, I was worried about Van Helsing, not myself for I somehow knew I was in no danger from the demonesses. The next day, Van Helsing disappeared into the castle and returned quite shaken, but we didn't meet the women the next night. It didn't require a genius to put two and two together. Van Helsing had killed the three beauties as they were confined in their daytime sleep, and, seeing as they lived with Dracula, they must have been dear to him as well.

"You won't go after them, will you?" I feared the answer, but he gave me a melancholic smile so soft, I probably wouldn't have noticed the movement of his lips had I not been paying such close attention to his expression. "I promised I would let them go, didn't I?" I felt my breath leave my lungs suddenly, I wasn't aware I had held my breath waiting for his answer, so vital it seemed.

"Mina, Mina. Know now, that I would never deliberately hurt you. If I promised you I'd let them live, they'll remain amongst the living, though should they come seeking to hurt you, I won't hesitate to break my word. You are too important, I won't loose you again"

Now that I didn't understand. His words still make a blush kiss my pale cheeks, but the last comment has me confused. Loose me again? He has yet to loose me, hasn't he? As far as I am aware, you could only say he lost me when I went to Jonathan and we married, though here I am now. Still, even now as sleep fights to claim me as I write this, I can't help but feel there is a deeper meaning than what I think. What am I missing here?

November 8

Jonathan Harker's diary

The day was dreary and gray, a fine companion to the general feeling we all held in silent hearts. Mina, my dearest Mina… I failed her. We all promised almost a month back to set her free should everything fail, should her mortal body die still within the clutches of the count's power, and now she's at his mercy, with us out of the picture and unable to free her soul from his curse. And to think we are alive because of her. Like she predicted, when the time came, she was leagued with the enemy against us, and yet she begged for our lives, she made sure we could leave this forsaken land safely. I would have done anything to change the finale, I would have gladly challenged Dracula all alone for the right… nay, the privilege to take Mina back home with us. It doesn't matter that her blood is tainted, her body dying only to reawaken as a vampire, shunned from the grace of God. Then, at least, we would have had the chance to stop her killing and banish her with a stake through her heart and a severed head, that though a grisly fate, wasn't just what she had wanted, but the only way of freeing her soul.

We took the train back to Verna around 7 am. As agreed, the Count's gypsies "came with us" to the station in Galatz, there they told us when was the next train to Verna leaving and disappeared. We all knew the Count wasn't doing this out of courtesy, but to ensure we did leave his home lands as soon as possible, but there wasn't much we could do but yield, as Van Helsing had pointed out since we were in Dracula's castle. We had been defeated, we had lost Quincey, and Mina was with him.

Despite my contrary feelings, deep within my mind I knew they were right, we were in no position to fight them and win, and we held no illusions about the count's wolves. Indeed, as we boarded the train, I noticed a figure moving in the shadows of the nearby frozen forest. At first I wasn't sure what it was, but soon enough I noticed a canid figure with a gray coat and white paws watching us. Before all this, I wouldn't have paid the animal more than a passing thought, after all, surrounded by the wilderness, it was not unexpected to meet other of God's creations, yet now, I couldn't think of the wolf as another of God's creatures on this Earth. Not when I knew they were loyal to the Prince in the shadows.

November 8, Mina's diary

Once more, I woke to a beautiful sunset, I stretched still in bed, feeling tired and strangely heavy. That was strange, I usually wake feeling rested despite my new nocturnal nature. Passing it as not important, I tried to rise from bed, tried being the key word here. By the third failed attempt, I began to panic, What was going on? I was fine yesterday! I could feel my body, nothing seemed amiss there, but I seemed to lack the strength to actually lift my own weight.

I guess I must have made more noise than I thought or perhaps he picked on my distress the same way I used to hear what he did when on the ship as we chased his box, but he was suddenly at my door, all ivory and flaming eyes, ready to fight off whoever dared frighten me so. Once he realized there was no one but us, he calmed down considerably, but there was still something in his expression I couldn't quite place. Worry, perhaps? He was by my side in an instant and promptly placed his hand on my brow, after which he just whispered my name in a broken, wishful manner. I was now more curious about this side of the terrible vampire than what had happened to me. Who would have thought a cold-blooded murderer capable of caring so?

Then again, my body had its own way of reminding me my predicament as suddenly there didn't seem to be enough air for me to draw upon. I could still breathe, but it was becoming harder as time crawled by. Perhaps it was minutes, perhaps it was hours, I'm not sure, but eventually I began feeling quite tired. Just keeping my eyes open was a feat, and I was fighting a loosing battle against sleep. I felt the prince's cool hand on my forehead in a calming gesture as he told me not to worry, that he'd be there when I woke, though he eventually switched to his native tongue. I didn't understand the words, but the accent had a nice ring to it that added to his soft baritone lulled me into comfort as I finally let sleep claim me.

The 8th of November, Mina Murray/Harker passed away at midnight sharp.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm baack! It took some time to decide what I wanted to do, but here it is, the next chapter to The Dragon's wife. I do apologize in advance, I might have gone a bit overboard with the descriptions.

Thanks to voldemorts grl and vintagelyre who reviewed last chapter. Also thanks to bobby Rae who added this on story alert, though I would also love to have reviews from those who have put this story on alert, :)

You know the drill. Besides, if I owned Dracula, do you think I'd be writing a fanfiction?

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November 9th- Mina's diary.

Today, as soon as I woke, I noticed that there was no more of the previous heaviness in my limbs or the extreme fatigue though something seemed to be off. As a matter of fact, I was feeling better than… well, ever, but it took me a moment to notice exactly what was different today. Despite the shadows rapidly growing in the room as the sun yielded to night my eyesight wasn't any less, on the contrary, I could still see every crevice on the ancient walls. The other thing was that I was feeling hungry… nay, ravenous, something strange since I drank the Count's blood; I was brimming with energy, but there was a distinct pang in the pit of my belly that didn't quite let me concentrate. Giving an annoyed huff I simply leapt from my bed, not worrying about tripping on my own clothes or on the sheets around my form. I rapidly dressed for the day (Or should I say night?), but it wasn't until I had a crimson gown on and was debating about what to do with my mass of curls when I finally realized something. A VERY important something I had seemingly managed to forget.

With a start, I placed my right hand over my left breast and waited with baited breath. Nothing. Not even the slightest flutter despite my sudden agitation, which should have sent my heart into a frenzy… if it were still beating. Shocked, I removed my hand slowly, only to find myself staring at the appendage as though for the very first time; my fingers seemed longer and thinner, the skin pale despite the cold that should have made them rosy, but perhaps the most noticeable difference were my nails; I had kept them mostly short, with just the barest hint of a crescent but now they looked long and healthy, the end, though not quite pointy enough for a claw, was naturally thinned. I momentarily wondered what other differences were there, but I was struck by how _me_ I felt. For so long I was sure I'd turn into a blood-thirsty monster, worried only by murder, and though I was hungry, I felt, I thought, I was still me, a stronger, less shy me, but Mina none-the-less.

It was then that I calmed despite the sudden-ness of my death and change and a new feeling brewed in me, a millenary instinct that though I shouldn't have since I wasn't really alive, I still relished; the desire to live. I didn't want to kill to survive, and I wondered if the sight of too much blood would still make me queasy, but I no longer felt like driving a stake through my own chest as soon as I got one. It was this thought that moved my lips into a smile as I left my quarters with no particular destiny.

I found myself wandering the corridors of the massive castle, looking at everything with a child-like interest. Between the new places, my recently upgraded sense of smell and my now keen eyes, everything looked different and new as the shadows held no more secrets from me. It was then, as I happily bounced through his home, that I found the Count. As I passed by a dark wooden door, looking as ancient as the rest of the castle, a sudden goosebump made me stop, my curiosity got the best of me as I edged the great door open, only to discover a large study of sorts which unlike the majority of the place, looked lived in. A fireplace kept the room bright and warm and the walls were lined with too many books to count, but a strange feeling in my spine made me turn left, where I found him.

The prince was sitting comfortably in a red cushioned chair, the book in his hands forgotten as his eyes were glued to me, effectively drawing my own gaze into his faintly glowing stare. Strange how I'd never noticed before how truly pale he was, or how his eyes, even as dark as they were then, seemed to glow with an inner light that was all their own, their stare so deep it betrayed their owner's ancient power. Somehow, my own gaze faltered against his, and as I lowered my eyes he unfurled to his full height and crossed the distance between us with just a couple of his long steps.

He took my hand in his much larger one, making me snap my eyes back to his. Given the height difference, I was forced to raise my head in order to see his face, but somehow, I was not quite comfortable with the position. I can't describe it even now, it was a feeling deep inside me, screaming that something was wrong, very wrong. Though confused, I simply let the new sensations rule my response, and I found myself slightly diverting my gaze from his penetrating one once more. His answering smile only managed to further miff me, since it betrayed some kind of… satisfaction, pride? He certainly was pleased with my reaction, whatever it had been. Too bad I'm not quite as fond of this new found behavior that, to me, screams of cowardice.

His other hand found my face, and I closed my eyes in response to the feather-soft caress that, strangely enough, caused a peculiar itch at the back of my throat. "And here I though you couldn't be any more beautiful than when I first laid eyes on you." His whispered words embarrassed me, but the expected heat from my resulting blush never came. (Now that I think of it, can I still even blush?). "Oh, but I am being rather rude. Go fetch your cloak, my dear. We shall… dine out tonight" The slight pause was meaningful enough, but the revulsion I half expected must have been keeping my blush company, for it didn't make it on time either. I only found open curiosity about my first… well, hunt, so I nodded and left to do his bidding.

I half ran the corridor back into my quarters and hurried into a back cloak that was both warm and went with the scarlet of my gown nicely. I couldn't have taken long, but by the time I exited my room he was already waiting for me. He was leaning against the wall, his lean body closely hugged by the dark blue tailored suit that just seemed to be tempting me to run my hands against his chest. I'm pretty sure the heat of my gaze alerted him to my open perusal of his figure, for he locked his eyes with mine and gave a slow, sensual smile, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Ashamed at being caught, I cleared my throat and suddenly found the wall he laid against most interesting, he was enough of a gentleman to let it slide and offer me his arm to take instead, for which I am still very grateful. What would I have said if confronted openly about it?

A carriage ride later found both the prince and myself in the middle of a busy street. Even surrounded by people, I kept calm, but the annoying pangs in my belly just seemed to intensify. We walked for some time before we arrived to a less populated part of the street, and I watched with interest as my companion somehow sweet-talked a young woman into accompanying us to a dark alley, her blue eyes seemed glazed and unfocused and I had to wonder f Lucy and I had looked like this when under the Count's hypnotic influence. He beckoned me closer to the woman with a gloved hand and as he guided me to her milky neck I could clearly hear the strong pulse of her heart in the vein, right beneath frail skin, I was being slowly intoxicated by the sweet scent of the blood that even within her body sang to me. I placed a hand to her belly for support as I leaned in… and froze.

I blinked a couple of times, the allure of the blood not as strong as before and I leaned down to place an ear to the woman's belly. I could feel the prince's curious gaze on me, but I couldn't bring myself to care when my new hearing confirmed what my hand had already felt; the woman was pregnant. I got away from her with a sigh and, after seeing the female still under the hypnotism I explained my actions to my companion. "She's pregnant." He merely raised an eyebrow "And?" "I don't really feel like taking a life so young it hasn't even been born into this world yet. That much innocence should remain intact." He looked at me with even more curiosity shinning in his cobalt eyes, but instead of merely scoffing at me and dinning the woman himself, as I half expected, the count just nodded and let the woman go. "Very well, we shall hunt somewhere else, then"

He once more offered me his arm and we kept walking. Our small crusade took us to the less savory parts of town, where several scantily clad women called out to the prince, trying to "tempt" him into getting closer. I looked at the prostitutes with indifference, unimpressed with their bright appearance, with they couldn't hide from my eyes even when half veiled in shadows, they really _didn't_ want to catch _his_ fancy. A half whimper and a gruff voice, however, caught my attention. Out the darkest corner of an alley I saw a greasy man leave with his prize in hand, he seemed to be a lower class worker, but it was his night's companion that caught my eye.

Dressed as scantily as the rest of the women here, a female half hung from his arm, striving to keep with his brisk pace, except this was no woman at all. Her short stature and barely visible figure suggested the woman-child to be perhaps around 14 summers old. She had fair skin and a mane of reddish hair that framed an oval face, she would be a beauty one day, but it was her eyes that made me look twice. Twin pools of forest green looked upon the world with a hard edge that should never have been there at such an age, it was the look of one who has seen too much, the look of a child forced to live a life she shouldn't have even been aware of. Stripped of all innocence, she had lost hope of ever having a better fate, her spirit was broken, no fight left in those defeated orbs. I ripped my eyes from the woman-child and forced myself not to think of what waited for her now she had been bought. Looking back into the alley, I recognized seven small shapes, all forced to stand in line, though they kept their hands linked in an effort to draw comfort from one another. The oldest couldn't be a day over 15, and the youngest was barely 11, not even a woman-child yet. I looked behind them for their jailer, a rotund man with a self-satisfied look about him and a lecherous grin permanently plastered into his porcine face.

The prince looked at me silently, and I gestured to the youngest. With barely a nod, he went negotiate with the man, his perverted comment about a threesome making me want to throttle him. The count just paid the… thing and took the girl's hand, she was a pretty little thing with golden waves and honeyed eyes that despite the way her eyes betrayed her fear of her new customer, kept a brave front. As soon as she was within my reach, I took her hand from my companion's and the petite child seemed to relax somewhat. As soon as we reached the secrecy of the shadows, I took the girl into my arms and held her as she silently wept, there was no joy left in those honey eyes, but I shushed her anyways and spoke softly to her, whispering that it would be all right. It wasn't long before her crying slowed into sniffles, and only then I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of her sweet blood. I breathed into her neck once before softly sinking my fangs into the vein that playfully pulsed right above the juncture between shoulder and neck, she barely even whimpered as her taste exploded in my mouth.

The sensation was incredible, the warmth of the fluid, the feeling of the ingested blood running through my own body, the liquid life making me stronger with every ruby drop, it's coppery taste only inviting me to drink further. A soft tap on my shoulder broke me from my euphoria, and the Count softly told me to stop, that she would be dead soon and I shouldn't keep drinking once that happened. I was as gentle as I could extracting my sharp fangs from her delicate neck, and curious, I looked back into her face. Her unfocused eyes were glazed with a strange peace and her childish face held a serene smile even as the light began extinguishing from the honeyed orbs and her life finally left her. Only then did I let her small body from my embrace, leaning the petite girl against a wall in the alley before touching my still bloody lips to her paling forehead, not caring about the crimson imprint left behind.

I stood still slightly dazed and happy with my first kill, but my prince (THE prince) took my arm and began guiding us both away from the place. As distracted by the new sensations as I was, it took me a moment to realize an important piece of information. "But! Where are we going?" He looked at me and answered calmly "Back home" "Home?! But you haven't eaten yet… why?" "I'm older, I can go a long time without hunting." "That's not the only reason, is it?" He kept his gaze averted this time as he answered. "You are a rarity of our kind, you must still have a certain humanity left in you, as proved by your merciful hunt. Whoever I choose won't be half as lucky as that girl" "I know what you are" I kept my eyes stubbornly right in front of us, even as his own penetrating gaze snapped to my face in a rare display of surprise "I'm one of your own now, no need to sugar-coat your nature for me anymore".

We went back to where the prostitutes dwelled, standing half in the shadows, and, as predicted, a pair of them got more than what they bargained for when they were chosen by the handsome Count. I accompanied the first one and prince Vlad into the very dark alley she had been waiting in, I was slightly put off to be there, not knowing what he would do with her _before _drinking, but he said that there were some things I had to learn, so, still feeling like an intruder, I stayed and watched. He was quick to press the woman into the wall, a hand on her hip, the other on her neck, and then he proceeded to kissing her brutally. I ought to have been ashamed, but unfortunately it was a deep indignation what coursed through my recently filled veins, an unfounded jealousy shot through my chest though I have no reason to feel as such, he isn't mine after all. Then everything changed. Much to my amazement, and even as the woman pressed to the wall moaned dramatically (honestly, is he _that _good at kissing?) a red droplet escaped their joined lips, I momentarily thought it a mistake, a nick with his fangs, perhaps, but effectively, the prostitute began loosing her strength until it was him who held her in an upright position. Minutes later, the prince left her lips and unceremoniously let the now dead body hit the floor, his own lips and mouth still dripping with her blood. I'm not proud to write that he made quite a sight as he raised his head and licked some rebellious drops from his lips before turning his attention to me, those burning red eyes doing nothing to deter the mad need to press my lips to his, to taste the fresh blood on his fangs. I hadn't thought of kissing him like this since before I knew him no be a vampire, yet now his power, that terrifying strength drew me like a moth to the flame.

He showed a greater restraint than mine as he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, as he calmed and closed those burning infernos the overwhelming awareness of his power receded and my own need came back into my control. The second prostitute was selected mere minutes later but instead of kissing her to death, literally, he covered her mouth with a hand and bit her on a breast, right above the nipple. I say that was bound to hurt, but she didn't seem uncomfortable at all. This time, once the woman was dead he seemed to have kept his composure better, for though his eyes shone red again his presence wasn't overwhelming me like before. We walked a bit more around the city before heading to the carriage and back to the castle, where the wolve's calls kept drawing my attention. It was late, or better said early, by the time we were back, so we went to sleep. Imagine my surprise when he didn't let me take the usual route to my room and instead took me along a different corridor and down a flight of stairs into an open hall, where a pair of strange boxes and candles were the only furniture. I had to get much closer before I recognized the boxes for what they were: a pair of coffins. One is slightly larger and made of black wood with silver details, whereas the smaller one is pearly white with a golden edge. It doesn't take a genius to tell which is who's, but I must admit that though "eating" hasn't proved a problem, I'm not quite convinced about this coffin affair. I guess next night will tell if this was truly a good idea…


	4. Chapter 4

Cookies to VintageLyre, immiD and Nightcrawlerlover for their reviews. Thanks also to kmcracerx, bluegel and Queen Nightshade for their alerts. You have made me want to keep writing this despite that I'm not quite satisfied with the chappie. This could be potentially riddled with errors, since my word corrector seems to have quit. Coward.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dracula, if I did Mina wold have never married Harker

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November 10th

It's official, I'm royally angry. Pissed off really, but I have good reasons to feel this way. Last night, getting into my coffin had required a couple of deep breaths and more courage than it should have, but really, entering the morbid thing when you feel perfectly fine is rather unsettling. Ironically, after my initial distrust I found my coffin rather comfortable, its darkness and the soft scent of wood lulling me into a deep sleep.

Problems began today, as I woke feeling agitated, a deep dread and sadness heavy upon my chest. I suspect it was a dream, though I am unable to remember anything at all and I'm not quite sure if vampyres can even dream. The possibility should have had me feeling happy, if not for the fact that when you wake from a fitful dream one tends to shoot out of bed. Now that wouldn't be a liability to my mood, except that while in a bed it's prefectly normal, it isn't quite the brightest idea when you are in a _lidded_ and _closed_ coffin.

Not only did my head get brusquely acquainted with the lid, but I also found the coffin to be made of a rather solid wood, as proved by the resounding 'thud'. Forcibly bounced back from my momentum, I took an instant to rub my forehead on instinct before realizing it didn't even hurt, though by all rights and judging by the sound, it should have. Annoyance rose as soon as I was awake enough to stop rubbing a head that didn't need it in the first place. Damned lid! Stupid, insufferable, obstructing, unpractical, ridicuolously noisy...

Now, thinking about the ruckus made me notice something else that all but cut my mental tirade short. The Count's coffin is right next to mine, and he has an even better hearing than my own. Indignation quickly lost gorund to a deep mortification and shame. How to explain to a centuries-old vampyre that you've brilliantly hit your head on the coffin's lid? My forehead could be intact but my pride...

I carefully pushed the oh-so-mentioned lid, only opening it enough to peer out through a crack. The black coffin still seemed sealed, so I ventured out of my own to tiptoe closer. Luckily for me , my prince does sleep like the dead and so my mishap went unnoticed. Breathing a sigh of relief and deeply offended, I left the room though I was still feeling sleepy in search of my bed. Imagine my surprise when I found a sliver of sunlight peeking through a mostly closed curtain. Day still reigned, and I was extra careful to avoid the ocassional deadly light escaping the thick clothes.

I eventually made it back to my old room, whick is thankfully dark thanks to its thick black curtains. I laid on the soft bed, seeking to continue my rest, but my efforts were thwarted. I twisted and turned what must have been a thousand times, but sleep never came. I now write from this very room, tired and crancky after my coffin-disaster, but I can't seem to sleep in my own bed anymore and I absolutely refuse to go back where the Count lays. Both a hurt pride and the ridiculous fear of a repeat performance, now with public, keep me from giving in and going back.

Stupid wooden boxes.

It wasn't until much later that the count went to retrieve me. Twilight was just beggining, but both of us were awake and dressed (much to my chagrin since I would have much prefered to have been just waking). He smiled when he saw me stare longingly at the bed, but wisely kept his silence, merely greeting me and asking if I was ready to leave. This time our hunt was much shorter, since I immediately took towards the prostitutes' side of town, my next prey already in mind. The count was forced to hipnotize the girls' greasy 'manager', since after last night's corpse he wouldn't leave any of his little prizes to us. Not willingly at least. I was amazed to notice none of the young women-children shied from us, though they were all aware that their comrade had never come back after our visit.

It was a dark haired one this time. As I opened my hand for her, she took it without fear or doubt in her almond eyes. Once we were alone I took her into my arms, like I had with the other girl and took a moment to enjoy the scent of her sweet blood singing just beneath frail skin. The girl closed her eyes and rested her head on my shoulder, but didn't break down. She merely waited with an even and deep breath. This time, curiosity won. 'Aren't you afraid?' I found myself asking almost in a whisper. 'No' 'Why?' 'Because death means peace.' Her maturity took me by surprise, but she hadn't finished. 'It means never going with a man again, never being on the cold streets. What is there to fear?' Moved, I softly rubbed my cheek against the mane of her onix tresses before sinking my fangs into her open neck in a quick but gentle thrust. I heard her sigh, but nothing more as her life slowly escaped into my thirsty mouth. Her blood was slightly more spicy than my last victim's but I was still enthranced by its flavor, by the power it gave me, by the sensation of new life feeding my body. A slight change in the flow made me come back and I noticed the girl was close to dying, so I slowly extracted my fangs, careful to avoid tearing any more skin. I looked into her half lidded ayes and whispered in her ear that she could finally rest, that it would all be alright. As her heart stopped its sluggish tempo, my bloody lips found her forehead just like with the last girl.

Only after I had left the small body against a wall did my companion aproach. 'You're learning enough control to stop when you have to without help, well done.' His comment had more of an effec than it should have, as I felt myself puff with pride and a smile drew itself on my still crimson lips. A strange warmth in his eyes, the Count helped me back to my feet and together we went back to the carriage, but not before a small argument similar to last night's.

'what about you?'

He merely watched me with those deep, dark eyes.

'aren't you hunting?'

'No'

Annoyed thinking he was trying to hide from me again, I began arguing, but he cut me mid-frase to explain.

'I'm much older than you are and don't really need to hunt every night. Besides, I had two adults last night whereas you have hunted teenagers both times.'

Once more, as soon as we were on the castle grounds, the wolves began howling, and my attention was drawn to the sound. As the Count noticed what had my attention so completely, he made a strage offer 'Do you want to see the brothers of the moon?' My first reaction was to decline, for those were wild creatures, but the words died on my throat at the memory of a white wolf's soft fur. The animal had escaped the zoo, but it had still calmed at my... the prince's words, it was perfectly safe and I was rather curious.

The carriage stopped at the castle's gates and the Count offered his hand to help me down, but instead of guiding me to the metallic door he took me right where the forest began. He threw back his head, closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the crisp night. He reopened his eyes, and they were a sharp vermillion as he called in a deep baritone for his pack brothers. I only had a moment to wonder why he called them his pack before a movement in the forest distracted me. As I focused my new eyes, the shape became recognizable as that of a large canid with a sliver coat and white paws, its amber eyes watching me as intenly as I stared at it. The wolf's attention was suddenly transferred to my companion, and as the large animal turned towards him another 7 shapes became recognizable amongst the shadows.

I merely watched as all eight wolves reunited in a half circle right in front of the count, with the silver wolf and a purely white one in the center, slightly ahead of the others. After assessing them for a minute, my companion called me to his side, making the pack uncomfortable with some of them only moving nervously and a couple openly showing their fangs in silence. I was obvioulsy very nervous as I approached, knowing I wasn't quite welcome, yet as soon as I was beside the prince, my fears calmed and a sense of knowing invaded me. With a clear voice that betrayed none of my previous fears I beseeched the wolves, somehow knowing they would listen. 'Be at ease, moon brothers. I am as much of a night predator as you are, and have no intention to bring harm.' It worked even better than I had expected, as the wolves stopped their fretting and half threats and merely perked their furred ears at my words. I remembered that amongst the power the Count had given me was the beasts' love, but I had never quite expected it to be like this.

The silver one approached me first, his movements were slow and catious, but as I stood still, he kept coming closer. He stopped close enough for my hand to touch his head and sniffed me purposely. It wasn't until he finished that the white wolf joined him, and then I noticed it to be a female. She was slightly smaller than him, but by no means a little individual. Neither wolf looked fat, but there were no visible ribs and their fur had a healthy shine.

'He's Ulfrik and she's his mate, Ylva, they are the leaders of the pack, the alphas.' The Count declared.

'They have names? I had though them wild.'

'They are. It's just that they aren't any pack, they're _my_ pack. They live in the castle's forest where game is bountiful and their safety from hunters is assured, in exchange they don't only listen to me, but they consider me their leader. Ulfrik and Ylva are their alphas, but my station is superior to even theirs. I can communicate with them either way, but the names make distinction even easier.'

To my utter surprise, Ylva used her snout to push her head beneath my hand and Ulfrik licked the back of the other one before I took to scratching his ears, which he turned out to love. Then the others came. The other six wolves disentangled themsleves from the shadows and approached whinning and panting, with their ears and tails low, apparently striving to get some of my attention and often laying on their back, showing the pink skin beneath until I scratched the soft belly. I had never had that many canids so close, much less wolves, and I was soon surrounded in a sea of fur, tails and wet noses. Once more, the prince had to show me how to handle things.

'That's enough boys.' And the pack retreated a couple of paces, back into their half circle formation

'Why do they do that?'

'Do what dear?' The suffix made me slightly embarassed, and much to my surprise, I felt my face heat up. My blush seems to be back.

'Show their underside. I thought only dogs did that.'

He seemed slightly reluctant to answer, but he did. 'They do that as a sign of submission, it's their way of saying you're of a higher rank and they know and respect your position.' My protest about not being really pack was soon dispelled.

'To their eyes, you are. It was my blood that turned you, so to them, you smell slightly of me. You are also a female of the same species and you're standing right next to me, not behind, so the conclusion they get to is that you're my mate. Hence, you're of my same station and deserving of the same respect.'

Though why he didn't really want to answer was obvious, I have yet to be bothered by the situation. I should be outraged, or at least ashamed, I should have tried to get the pack to understand I have a mate, and not the Count, but I didn't. I'm very much aware I'm tecnically married, but the truth is that I think of Jonathan as a husband less and less, and besides, I'm theoretically already dead.

With this in mind, I merely smiled to my.... the prince and said their confusion was a good thing if it meant I got to pet them all. He scoffed, not expecting that kind of answer and only added a half-hearted 'women', but he seemed strangely pleased as he told me names of the other wolves.

Zev is a tawny male, the beta of the pack, and his mate is the sweet Agwang, with a gray coat and an almost black line running on her spine. Otsana is a medium aged female with no mate and a gray coat also, but hers is lighter. Velvela is a young female with long legs and very light of frame, a runner according to the Count, who is being courted by Lope, a slightly older black male. Finally came Varg, the smallest of the pack with a pure silver coat. I was told he's Ylva's and Ulfrik's pup, but he isn't the only one, his sister was left in the den with her youger brothers and sisters, looking after them while the rest of the pack was absent. The idea of pups really excites me, I wonder if the pack will bring them sometime?

We stayed with the wolves for the mayority of the night. At times one of them approached to get some petting, but they kept mostly to their own business, not minding my rapt attention. Despite the fact that we were out in the snow in the middle of the night, I felt no cold, and though we were in the outskirts of the forest, with no light other than the crescent moon's I could see the pack clearly as the animals came and went, weaving through the trees to sniff around or greet each other with a rub of their snouts. It was the Count who eventually told me we had to go back to the castle if we wanted to avoid a painful reminder of our nocturnal nature. The wolves only left after we did.

Back at the castle, we once more descended to the lower parts to get to our sleeping quarters. And there was the innocent-looking white coffin... though its being a coffin rather dimished its innocence. I was still figuratively sore about the morning, but I knew I had no nother option, as the bed had proved impossible to sleep in. Somehow, the Count sensed my resentment, for he ran a warm hand down my cheek. Just like the last time, a strange sensation took residence in my throat and chest, similar to an itch, yet constant and not as unpleasant since I felt no need to scratch. I only knew I'd closed my eyes when I re-opened them as my companion's hand left my skin. I looked at him for an instant that seemed to stretch when my eyes found his and got lost in them. I still can't quite express the wonder that are his eyes, though dark as night they seem to hold a most curious outer ring, almost unnoticeable, it is of a very dark red, almost similar to a fine wine's deep tint. It seems to scream of his true nature, betraying the assasin behind the gentleman as much as the unnaturally iridiscent blue shine of the white in his orbs betrays the power his seemingly human form holds. It is in this shine that I can see the long years he's roamed the earth, years that have made him stronger than any other.

He made a move first, and for an instant, I had to wonder why did had he outstretched his hand for me. Luckily for me, my brain managed to catch up before my absolutely embarrassing blank became noticeable and reacted by making my own hand rise to fit in his much larger digits. With slow, catious movements, he helped me into my coffin and I was too distracted to make much of a fuss about being back in the traitorous thing. When he communicated a mute "rest well" (since goodnight no longer seems appliable) with a feathered kiss to my forehead I was too dazed to even bother to wonder when had he become so expressive and warm. This effect lasted while I closed the coffin and even as sleep claimed me, my brain was filled only with the warmth of his lips on my pale skin.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to who added this story to favorites and The future Queen of the world, who put this on alert, but I must admit I'm somewhat disheartened by the lack of reviews... anyone out there?

Disclaimer: It pains me to say, but I really don't own Dracula.

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November 11th

The view was truly magestic; the snowy mountains, the sky barely showing hints of the orange of sunset, and below the lush forest and the raging river of clear water. Then the cold air passing me at incredible speeds. It caught on my clothes, making the sleeves and long skirt flap around my body with a very particular sound. I took a deep breath, then another and closed my eyes as I outstretched my arms. I was falling, falling...

I once more found myself waking with a start, but today my body stayed in place, luckily for me. I rose from my coffin as silently as I could, but the prince was already awake and if his penetrating gaze was any indicator, he had been waiting for me. He was polite when he told me to get ready and dress with something elegant, but said nothing more and with a fluid turn that would have made any dancer envious was gone. I kept staring for a moment at the empty spot where he used to be, as if I could bring him back and have him explain with the power of my gaze alone, but eventually resigned myself to my fate and went to get ready for whatever-it-was.

Getting ready for an event you know nothing about is quite a task, so I found myself browsing through the whole wardrobe in my room for the first time since my arrival. Choosing my attire took me longer than normal, and I found myself debating between about 5 different elegant dresses, wondering which one would catch the Count's eye. It comes as no surprise that by the time I was ready he was waiting outside, for the second time on the same night. He was dashing in a gray suit which reminded me of our first encounter, its cut both drawing my gaze to his broad shoulders and enhancing his trim waist. I was distracted by him, but I could have sworn I saw my prince raking his eyes through the indigo skirt of my dress to reach the deep v neck that showed quite some cleavage, the delicate desgin sewn in gold distracting him for a moment before he began rising from the dress, from my clavicles to the black chain necklace with a sapphire resting right on the hollow of my neck, and from there to my neck itself. Though the necklace was meant to draw attention to the neck I never quite expected the hungry look that flashed through his gaze, turning his eyes a vibrant crimson for an instant. Then he blinked and his eyes were back to their usual dark look, making me wonder if it had been there after all.

He was the perfect gentleman as he offered me his arm, not a single wayward look in my direction, something that strangely enough, I found rather annoying. I can't really say the same about myself as my rebellious gaze often strayed to his shining curls, to his thin waist, to his powerful back...

The Count took me back to the prostitutes' dwellings, and after a show of his hipnotic powers I took yet another girl into eternal rest, this time a redhead that reminded me so much of my dear Lucy I was extra careful with her frail body and skin. After my ritual kiss to my victim my companion took off, and I knew by his purposeful look that he would hunt tonight. I was proved right when he seduced a brunette, a pretty little thing with an increduble figure and milky skin. I was amazed when this time he didn't bite her until he reached the neck, their position enabling me to watch clearly from my place in the shadows, though whether this was deliberate I know not. I saw his tongue snake out to taste the pale skin, noticed the prostitute throwing her head back and one of the Count's hands as it rose to her straight mane in order to keep her head in a comfortable position for him to keep kissing her. He gave a couple open mothed kisses before pinning me with his gaze and sinking his fangs into her vulnerable vein, allowing me to see how his eyes slowly went into a shinning red as the life-giving liquid flowed into his greedy mouth, the fangs burried beneath her skin.

I should have turned away, but I was just unable to tear my eyes from the bloody feast. The woman's blood was alluring, its scent very strong as the prescious substance escaped her fractured veins, but that was not what held me captive. It was the prince. His vermillion gaze was still fixed on me, the power he radiated both overwhelming me and making it impossible to escape his commanding presence. It was just like the first time we'd gone hunting together. A goosebump ran through my back as he finally extracted his fangs and threw his head back, with the mouth still open and his fangs bared for the world to see, thus breaking our visual contact and freeing me. He looked every bit the predator he really was with a trail of blood smeared from the corner of his lips to his chin and his fangs still dripping. There was something urging me to get closer to him, a primitive desire deep within, but I made an effort to avoid thinking too much about it.

By the time I had stopped thinking of just how delectable his lips looked when painted in the ruby of his victim's blood, Vlad was calm once more, all traces of blood on his face or lips gone (much to my secret dissappointment). He was once more the aristocrat as we left the alleys and went back into the carriage to go to the nicest part of town. Our destination turned out to be a suntous building, a mansion fit for royals.

We entered without problems or questions, though I'm not sure if it was the Count's hipnotic gaze or that he was truly expected there. The music reached my new sensitive hearing as soon as we crossed the golden doors, it looked like my prince wanted us to dance, and indeed, when we reached the ballroom everything was such a flurry of movement and color it momentarily distracted me. I hadn't been surrounded by so many vibrant colors since my death and rebirth, and I became even more aware of the difference in my new senses. I could see the individual flutter of each skirt, notice the changing shades of every fabric as the light hit it differently with the dancers' twists. The colors themselves seemed changed, I can't even describe the way my eyes work, dissecting the different shades that made each dress unique and allowing me to see both the indigo and the green interwoven in the same airy fabric to make it look an aqua green or the gold mized with a brilliant red to give the ample cloth on another woman's attire a most attractive metallic sheen...

A nearly silent chuckle, which I managed to hear even above the musicians, broke me from my newly found fascination. I looked up into my companions eyes and I found an amused smile still painted on his lips, though his eyes showed a certain understanding. "Isn't it beautiful?" I gave an apologetic smile, knowing he had caught me marvelling at something so simple. "Eventually, you will get used to it, but color and movement shall always be a distraction." Now that made me thing something else, and I just had to ask "Even for you?" He didn't answer with words, but gifted me with a smile like I hadn't seen since before knowing of his true nature, a smile filled with the mistery that was him and a touch of self-assurance. The expression effectively made me loose all coherent thought, weakening my knees and making me forget what he really was, what _we_ really were. In that instant, he was just an enchanting foreigner, trying to woo a woman... and succeding.

"May I have the honor of a dance, my lady?" I gave him my hand without a second thought, which he took and lifted to his lips with a flourish. His lips felt pleasantly warm on my pale skin, but the contact sent an electric current from my knuckles all the way to my shoulder and chest to finally lodge somwhere in my belly. He then gave a ravishing smile from behind my hand and swifly maneuvered us into the middle of the dancers, lifting the hand still holding my own smaller appendage and placing the other one in my waist. I didn't even notice when my own hand lifted, seemingly on its own, to rest in a broad shoulder, but I certainly noticed the corded muscle beneath, evident to my touch even with the coat on. On a silent agreement, we both began moving at a time, the music guiding us both easily over the white marble floor as I rediscovered the wonder of music. I could easily hear not only the sound the violins made, but the soft swish of the arch gliding over the strings, the breath that preceeded the flute's lilting notes, the click of several pairs of shoes on the marble, but still my sight seems to be the dominant sense. Then again, it might have been the object of my gaze that made it seem so.

I couldn't keep my eyes off him. Even now, writing from a private place back in the castle I am unable to really know what came over me. I just know I didn't really care who he was, that he killed Lucy, that I am now a nosferatu, banned forever from light for him or that I supposedly loved Harker. Only the moment mattered as his dark eyes bored into mine and time lost all sense and meaning, as the warm hand on my waist moved to my back, pulling our bodies closer and forcing me to rise my head in order to keep contact with his eyes instead of the nice chest now level with my gaze as much as it forced him to lower the arrogant tilt of his head for the same reason.

We could have very well been the only couple dancing for all I cared, though I did see several jelaous looks coming from the varios females in the room as we glided around the whole night, never once bothering to stop to rest since our bodies didn't need it. My prince had caught several eyes, and I can't blame them, since I was the first to fall to his charms and looks back in England though I was already engaged. Eventually, something told me night was close to its end and I knew we would have to leave. Effectively, when the song ended, the Count lowered our entwined hands, though the other one never left my waist. I suddenly felt self-conscious about the fact that I had been staring openly the whole night and lowered my gaze to our feet, only to notice a curious detail; the polished marble reflected all dancing couples, but not us. He turned so that he was on my left insted of in front of me and I left my curiosity about our reflections, or lack thereof, in favor of following my companion out of the now dwindling ball. We left the main room and found ourselves back in the long hallway we had come through hours before, the guards had left and the place wasn't as well lit as it had been upon our arrival, enabling shadows to cling to the cream and golden walls. I looked at my... prince and found myself the center of his attention as our gait slowed until we were both perfectly still, looking intently at each other.

It was a long moment of intense gazes, but it was not uncomfortable, but rather an expectant silence, as if the world held its breath for something... and then our lips met. Who finally breeched the distance was unimportant, but as his lips caressed mine in a forbidden dance I couldn't help but wonder why hadn't I kissed him like this long ago. Since that kiss when I drank his blood I had detected a very particular flavor in his lips, but only now, perhaps due to my new abilities, could I really taste and appreciate it; it was a very male flavour, spicy but not too strong, humming with the undercurrent of his powers and coppery with a ghost of the bloods' particular scent. He pressed me against the wall and I couldn't help a small mewling sound as the hand not delightfully pressed in the small of by back tangled in my dark mane as if to keep me in place, and the kiss grew into something more feral, more urgent. My pulse began racing and a sensation similar to the thrill of feeding clouded my mind as his tongue left his mouth to explore mine, but it wasn't until I decided to return the favour that I noticed I wasn't the only one feeling the thrill of blood as I found a sharp fang in my way, tracing it earned me a sigh from the usually collected male but my victory didn't last long since he then chose to caress my curious tongue with his, the sliding movements of the humid appendage making me gasp and arch my neck. Footsteps finally drew us back into the present, and as I opened my eyes I couldn't help but feel smug at the orange ring on the outer part of his usually dark irises. Wordlessly leaving our compromising position, we exited the mansion as if nothing, though our slightly accelerated breaths and his re-darkening eyes reminded us of what had really happened...


	6. Chapter 6

JeJe I seem to have a terrible tendency when it comes to updating, but I rewrote this about three times before deciding to let it be already. Hugs and kisses to my wonderful reviewers SassyFlame (gotta love 'em bad boys!! And thanks for the compliment, I'm making an effort not to make it rushed, though I'm dying to get them together), Hiskubus, hudao and sance777. Cookies to those kind enough to place the story on alert or favorites despite the long absence

I still haven't replaced my word corrector, so excuse any jarring mistakes

Disclaimer: I really don't own Dracula, but shhhh! I can always kidnap the characters *grin*

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November 12

Tonight as I woke and retrieved my Prince from the customary place on the library I noticed there was something different. The normally controled aristocrat seemed to be... nervous perhaps, anxious? Instead of laying comfortably on the couch, deeply engrossed in whatever book he had been reading or just contemplating the dancing flames on the fireplace the prince paced restlessly on the room, his long hair and bright eyes oddly reminiscent of a caged lion's. It didn't take him long to notice my presence, and when he did he stopped his mad walk, but even while standing facing me with his hands behind his back, I could see how he kept shifting his weight from one foot to another. Seeing the famed vampire look so nervous was curious to say the least, and I couldn't seem to prevent myself from analyzing this behaviour with a cat's inquisitiveness.

Despite this, when he spoke, his deep baritone kept its usual smooth tone and his explanation was pretty straight-forward. Perhaps not clear enough for me, for as soon as my mind grasped the fact that he was actually talking about hunting with the pack I began doubting my new hearing for the first time. I couldn't be hearing right, could I?

Since he didn't divulge any details about managing this, I asked. The great nosferatu didn't meet my eyes as he cleared his throat and simply answered with a short "shape-shift." Now that made much more sense, though as soon as he said it I felt like hitting myself for not thinking about it sooner, after all, I'd seen him become mist, a half bat creature and a werewolf kind of beast. I grew so engrossed in trying to remember as many details about his forms as I could through the hazy fear clouding the memories that I almost missed his next words. Almost.

"What? Why are you leaving?"

"I told you already, I'm hunting with the pack"

"Am I not allowed to go?" I hated how meek and submissive that had sounded, but it gave him pause. He met my eyes with with his own powerful gaze, allowing me to clearly notice the curiosity writen all over.

"Would you wish to go?"

"Well, I have yet to shift, but I want to see what hunting with the pack is like."

"Well, the shifing isn't grave, but the pack doesn't have the same diet as we do. They kill and feed solely on animals. That's why I told you I'd return later so you could feed"

"If you won't feed, why go hunting with them?"

"I never said we couldn't feed from animals. Their blood isn't nearly as good as men's in flavor or nourishment, so we can't really use them as our only prey, but ocassionally it is sufficient. Besides, it is important for the pack that I go, it helps keep the image of the leader."

"Then we'll both go." And leaving no place for argument, I turned around and left the library ahead of him, only waiting for my prince once I reached the castle's front door.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply as soon as the cold air hit my face, enjoying the clean scent of the surrounding forest. When I re-opened them I noticed a beautiful full moon above , painting the wilderness in silver and blue and betraying to my sensitive eyesight the movements of the wolves in the forest line. 8 animals again. This time there was no formation, they kept to the trees, half hidden and continously moving, perhaps restless to begin the hunt. A disturbance in the air behind me and to my right, however, stole my attention completely.

I turned to encounter a pair of fiery eyes. The Count had unleashed some of his ancient power, changing the tint of his eyes and somehow alerting me to his intentions. Strangely enough, I don't remember feeling anything at all when he'd done this while I was human, back then I felt not the electric pull of his power nor the disturbance in the air its release caused. For an instant nothing happened, he merely kept his crimson gaze locked on mine, not moving an inch. When he didn't break the contact I finally got the hint, he was asking me once more if I was sure about this, he was waiting for my approval. I found myself peeved by this, Why can't he understand I've accepted my fate? I'm not repulsed by his nature, at least, not now I've learned what being a nosferatu is like. He should stop hiding, why try to soften his nature for me, now that it's mine as well? Despite the annoyance, I have to admit I also felt a warm sensation beneath the irritation, ridiculous as the reason seems, he was being considerate of my humanity, if there is any of it left.

I gave a single nod and it was over in an instant, though I could see the change in the prince's body form clearly. Gone was the guise of the gentleman to be replaced with a creature of the night, a form perhaps more fitting of our true nature. He was taller now, the broad shoulders full of muscle in order to move the huge arms. His legs were also heavily muscled and more bent than a human's, allowing him to run comfortably in all fours. All through his body there was hair, black as the darkest ink and thick enough to be fur, specially on his neck, but it dissappeared on his hands, face and feet. The face has to be the strangest part, not really human, but lacking a full snout. It has no hair whatsoever, human like (though hairless) brows and a flat nose with ample nostrils. The ears are on top of the head like a wolve's and swivel to better follow sound, his breathing in this form is heavy, though almost silent. The Count remained still throughout my pursual, allowing me to drink his form without interruption but his red and amber eyes never left my face, perhaps gauging my reaction to this new him.

Satisfied, I finished my visual exploration and stood on his right, close enough to feel the heat his body produced, knowing the pack saw me as his equal and I was allowed to stand so near, though the heat was new. A deep throated but not too loud growl was the only warning the Count gave before launching himself forward in a wild leap and running into the dark forest. I leapt after him, a little bit worried about my lack of ability when it came to transforming now I'd seen just how fast he really was. To my utter surprise, after a mad dash I managed to catch up to him and more or less keep his pace, so it took me a moment to overcome my wonder and notice the half-wolve's face was turned towards me, making sure I was keeping up before returning his attention to the forest. After a couple of minutes I stopped worrying so much about the speed and actually began enjoying the thrill of running in the wilderness. For the first time since my death and awakening I didn't have to keep any appearances for the men around the prince and I, for there were none here. I was free to be as inhuman as I wished with no consecuences at all, and it was more liberating than I'd ever thought.

I was no longer only running, but I leapt every now and then, rather liking the sensation of the muscles tensing and stretching to meet my mind's commands. The wind caressed my hair, I could hear it whistling past my ears as clearly as if the earth itself was whispering its secrets to me and I could hear the particular, heavy and rithmyc breathing of my companion even as the scents of humid soil, pine trees and a smell that I can't describe as anything other than the scent of night itself filled my nose. I felt so alive as adrenaline ran through my veins it was dizzying. I now find it strange how the time I've felt more alive happened once I was no longer a living, breathing being, once I was tecnically dead.

Suddenly my companion lifted his nose to the air and swivelled left. The run only continued for another half minute before he slowed down to a trot and then to a mere fast walk, as he did, the pack got closer, though they still kept a respectful distance from us. The prince stopped, and, perhaps on instinct, so did the rest of us. When he resumed a cautious, slow gait I found myself walking carefully on the balls of my feet to make as little noise as possible, my upper body bent in a half crouch until our objective became visible. A deer. The stag was alone, a huge animal on its prime with at least 10 tips on its antlers, and undoubtedly heavier than myself. On their own, the wolves moved discreetly from behind our backs and to the opposite side of the animal, still keeping their distance to avoid alerting the prey. A moment passed, but I was distracted from the oblivious deer as the prince lightly placed his massive clawed hand on my shoulder. I wasn't quite sure how or when, but it had begun, the pack was chasing the stag and driving it towards where we were. The warm hand on me was suddenly gone and in a flash my companion wasn't there anymore, having leapt from my side and straight towards the deer, his huge form colliding with the animal straight on.

It was over as brusquely as it had begun, the Count had forced the stag into submission and kept a tight grasp on it as he sank his fang into the animal's long neck. The pack kept its distance from their alpha as he ate, but unexpectedly, he looked up and patted the spot right by his side. Was he implying I was to eat by his side? Like, sharing the same prey? Throroughly confused, but trusting him, I approached slowly and walked around the animal to reach his side, though I still wasn't comfortable enough to sit until he insisted again. Something deep in my bones screamed urgently at me, causing a particular discomfort. Curious how I have no problem with getting close enough to kiss the Count senseless, but when it comes to prey the rules of the game seem to change drastically.

My prince raised his great head from the stag's body and offered me the neck. Still unsure, but with my discomfort miraculously quelled I cautiously sniffed the blood with his earlier words about the taste in my head. It certainly didn't produce the same urge to feed as human blood did, but its smell wasn't bad at all. Deciding to stop stallying before the stag succumbed and we couldn't eat anymore, I threw my head back and bit savagely into the offered vein, expecting the animal's hide to be hard. It turned out to be much easier to break than I had expected, causing some blood to spatter around my mouth and cheeks as I drank. Despite this, I almost left my meal when the male besides me leaned back to the puctures he'd made and resumed his feeding. The sense of alarm, however, lasted only a second before his absolute lack of attention towards me calmed my frazzled nerves. After the initial panic, I was rather relaxed and focused on my meal despite the huge werewolf sharing the blood so close his fur brushed my arm. I still can't understand this sudden urges and feelings, they seem to come out of nowhere and they leave just as silently as they come.

After another couple of minutes, the blood flow slowed and I knew it was time to leave the stag's neck. I extracted my elongated fangs and watched as the Count did the same mere instants later and the deer breathed its last. My companion rose from his haunches and retired a couple of meters back, so I followed. As soon as we were both away from the carcass the pack swooped in. The first ones to eat were Ulfrik and Ylva, and I was surprised to note that, much as ourselves, the alpha mates ate together while the rest of the wolves kept their distance. When they were over, the others feasted on the fresh kill, the crunching of bones, growling and wet tearing the only sounds in the otherwise silent woods. When it was over, there was little of the stag left and the pack looked a disgrace with their paws and snouts matted with quickly drying blood. I watched intenly as the wolves turned to each other and began diligently licking each other to rid themselves of the bothersome red stains, but I was brusquely interrupted by a wet something on my face.

Blinking, I turned to the Count who merely stared back before boldly licking my cheek again. Still getting no reaction, he seemed to decide it was time to get serious, for he began licking my bloodied face in earnest, the gesture not bothering me in the least except for when his warm tongue ran over my lips, causing a most delicious shudder to race through my spine. Somewhere in the back of my brain, the idea surged that, usually, being licked clean was rather disgusting, however, I paid the errant thought no heed for the sensation brought a curious sense of comfort. I had no hurry to make my companion stop his ministrations, though when he was almost over I began feeling an insistent itch somewhere deep within my throat. Thinking about it, I'm almost certain I've had that sensation before, when I first awoke a vampire, but I'm nowhere closer as to guessing what it is now than I was then.

When he was done I turned to look at the Prince's face, for while he was cleaning me I made sure to stay fairly still so he could work, but I found no traces whatsoever of blood on his face/snout. The revelation made me frown slightly. I guess it's envy because I couldn't be as clean while feeding... and he is the one with fur!

It wasn't long before the pack was done making itself presentable again and we began the trek back home. Now half walking half trotting with the extra weight of the ingested meal, the journey was longer, but it was enjoyable and the pack still kept its formation behind the Count and I. The wolves kept close to us until we reached the edge of the forest and the castle was in view, there they stopped and the prince reverted back to his usual human shape before nodding to Ulfrik and Ylva. Then they left, furred shadows roaming the territory on silent paws. I watched them go and wondered about being a wolf myself.

"Will I be able to shape shift?"

The Count gave me a sidelong glance before calmly answering "Yes. Though I can't tell when or what shape you'll take."

"So it's random?"

"You could say that."

"Then how can you tell I'll transform at all?" He smiled indulgently. I'm not usually so inquisitive, preferring instead to take things as they come, so my sudden questioning seemed to amuse him.

"Shifting is part of a nosferatu's abilities, but we're all individuals. Some things come easier than others, and it's different for each of us. You wield control over the storm and the beasts already because I made it so when you drank my blood, but there's still a limit to what a newborn can achieve, and you are already very powerful for one so young. We all grow stonger as we grow older, but it takes time. Patience Mina, even when you do shift, there's no way to know if you'll conquer the wolf first."

I felt my face grow warm at his words, and I found myself blushing at being so easily caught. Was it so obvious I wanted to run in four feet?

I kept silent as we walked through the twisting hallways of his home, but he seemed content even throuth the lack of conversation as betrayed by the ghost of a smile that kept his lips curved upwards slightly. We climbed to our respective coffins in the dark, not bothering to light a clandle as we were both perfectly able to see. As darkness engulfed me for the day I was still thinking about a gentle breeze ruffling my fur as I raised my snout to howl at a full moon.


	7. Chapter 7

Here comes a different chapter. Not much Mina/Vlad here, but you'll see why. Thanks to my reviewers Doamna de Corbii (a bit jeje), hudao (slow perhaps, but I don't intend to give up!), SKIDDY (yup, the lack of fandom is a shame), SassyFlame (Sorry, more slow buildup), and goblinphantomgirl (thanks a lot for the compliments, you made my day!... for several days. Hope you also enjoy this one). Cookies once more to those who've put up alerts for this.

Good news is... I now have a Beta! Wonderful Lyr i'Marie is now stuck with my mistakes and trying to make them go away.

Disclaimer. I don't own, you don't sue

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November 17

All things must come to an end, and so it was with little surprise I realized last night that I was finally taking the last girl from the alleys. I'd left the oldest for last, a young girl around 15 with long legs and a straight auburn mane that nicely complemented her dark almond eyes. Like the rest, she seemed relieved, almost happy to see me come for her even if it meant her death. Her fat manager wasn't happy. I'd been stealing his girls every night and he was out of "merchandise" now, though the last girl told me he intended to get more.

That night I asked my prince a favor; he was to hypnotise the man so he'll come to the alley tonight, though he has nothing to do there without his little prizes to work for him. My prince tried to question my motives, but I gave no answers. He'd see for himself tonight.

Concentrating once more on the task at hand I donned a stunning black garment with ample cleavage and left my hair to cascade down my shoulders. I've been paying more attention to my appearance lately, but refuse to aknowledge the nagging voice at the back of my head whispering that it is _his_ eye I keep trying to catch, even as I placed a dark red pin over my long curls. At times like this I often find myself sorely missing mirrors, but my own mental image would have to suffice. Resigned, I opened my chamber's door to find Vlad staring intently at me, his dark eyes refusing to leave my form long after the time which the rules of etiquette deem appropiate. A smile painted itself on my lips as my own gaze roamed his long hair, over the stright nose and masculine lips to take a dip into his strong chest, flat stomach, and lower still to skim his powerful thighs.

Done with the night's visual exploration I approached and he was quick to catch the hint and take my hand to lead me into the night. As we arrived at the alley my gaze was drawn to the fat figure half concealed in the shadows, the darkness cloaking his body doing nothing to hide the man from my powerful eyes. His body language spoke volumes of his confusion as he paced around the small space scratching his balding head, unsure of why he was there, yet unable to fight the Count's power and leave once and for all.

An unfamiliar thrill ran through my veins, causing my fangs to elongate past the gums in a slightly uncomfortable, yet not painful sensation; pure, undiluted exhilaration flowed through my currently empty venation. That, however, would be remedied soon enough.

Letting go of my prince's hand I strode toward the lonely man in a slow, deliberate, almost coquettish gait. I found satisfaction in watching surprise inscribe itself upon his round face mere moments before it was replaced with wide eyed horror, and all the while his heartbeat accelerated. A deep breath brought a deliciously tangy scent that made my lips curl in a smirk; I showed my pearly fangs and the smell became stronger. Such a nice scent was fear, the adrenaline permeating the man's blood as his mortal body worked furiously on. Of course he knew who I was, he was well aware I'd been the one to take all his prizes, though he was probably unsure of how I managed to get them right under his "watchful eye". He wouldn't have usually feared such a small, frail woman, but he knew better now than to assume me harmless. Giving in to his instincts, the man turned tail and ran deeper into the alley in a move driven onward even though he knew full well there was only a brick wall beyond. A deep, new feral part of me rather enjoyed this cowardly response, both taking pride in his flight and urging me to give chase. It had begun.

Running swiftly, I found myself right in front of his greasy nose without the mortal really knowing how I managed the feat; the action forced him to stop brusquely and give a couple of steps back, only to turn around and try to take off again in a blind run. I wouldn't allow that, however. Again moving to stand before him I let out a fierce hiss witout really knowing how, but I got the reward of hearing his heart actually stop for a couple of seconds. Taking advantage of his shock I lunged forward and bit his barely covered collar bone. It was only a nip to ensure he wouldn't lose too much blood, but it was enough to spur his fat self back into action and to drive his heartbeat into a whole new level of frenzy as I let him get away from me again.

I found myself rather enjoying the unfair chase while the prince remained where he stood, simply watching the hunt unfold. I'd grab the man, then let him go and bite his unprotected back. I let him run, pushed him and even allowed him to recuperate before blocking his path to freedom and forcing him to run back into the alley. I even took a bite from his shoulder only to retreat within the shadows clinging to the walls; it gave him a sliver of hope that I'd leave him alone; it was not to be as my games began anew.

It took five whole minutes for my thirst to finally get me to stop my cat-and-mouse game. By then, the man was a disgrace, laid as he was on his backside on the ground; he'd fallen ungracefully backwards in an attempt to backpedal and place some distance between us. His wounds were all shallow and non-threatening, but the exertion and number of small cuts and nips was beggining to take its toll. Eyeing a paticularly inviting crimson trail I grabbed his right hand firmly and licked the blood all the way to the open wrist. The taste, already sweetened by his fear, was made all the more enjoyable by his unbelieving face as I locked my eyes with his dark ones as I drank.

I left the appendage alone then, crawling on all fours beside the fallen mortal while licking the last droplets of blood from my lips. The man remained frozen in place, paralyzed by fear even as I drew closer to my ultimate goal, the artery in his neck that kept pulsing invitingly with the mad tempo driven insistently by his heart into his heaving chest. He was the terrified doe, trapped within the lion's amber eyes and unable to move though it saw the predator leap with fatal intent. And I wasn't going to dissapoint.

I bit into the vein with a zeal borne from denying my need for so long and spilling so much human blood without truly slaking my thirst. The sheer force of the assault forced a moan from the man's throat despite the all-encompassing terror. He began thrashing around in a last attempt to break free and live, but he was already trapped in my iron embrace, my fangs deeply embedded in the flesh. It was too late. It didn't last long; he became drowsy as quickly as he'd switched from shock to struggle. Despite all the exercise, the thrill of such a stimulating hunt and the blood already spilt, I was unable to drain him dry; I found my appetite sated before he breathed his last. Full with his blood I felt giddy, strong and strangely proud of my vengeance as I watched the crimson, life giving liquid flow from the mortal's wounds to pool on the dark cobblestones.

I rose to my feet, but otherwise did nothing for some time; I merely watched as life escaped the fat man below me with every gasping breath he struggled to get past his paling lips. As death finally claimed the mortal something else stole my attention, in the growing red pool beneath the corpse a figure stared back at me with a curious expression, and knowing that vampires have no reflection it took me a moment to realize the young woman I saw over the dark blood was indeed me. I carefully regarded the image, seeing my changed appearance for the first time. The face was more refined, the skin not quite as ghostly pale as I would have expected, the shade greatly complimented by full red lips and the hair was a brighter auburn; the old Mina still very much recognizable, but the newborn nosferatu has an allure that was missing before.

Even with my almond eyes shinning the brilliant shade of recent blood I felt no remorse for the deeds just comitted. That pig of a man deserved what he got, every last fright, scrape, and bite for all the heartache he caused those poor souls that ended up in his clutches. My prince was right, I am a merciful hunter with a soft spot for innocence... but I am also every bit as much of a vampire as he is, stonger than any human and capable of causing carnage if I feel the ocassion deserves it. In the end, the revelation didn't bother me as much as I would have thought. I am who I have become, and given that I am not a mindless beast that knows only hunger and death, I can live with it. As a soft smile overtook my lips the frightful orbs changed to a most unusual shade of amber, letting me know my usual appearance; beautiful, but with my true predatory nature shinning through in those feline eyes.

Finally finished, I turned to my forgotten companion, who watched me with a guarded expression, as if expecting me to fall apart any moment now. Another half smile twitched over my lips even as I raised a single eyebrow in a daring question, immediately putting Vlad at ease as he led us deeper into the still young night.


End file.
